The Mission Series: Day SixtyThree  Sick
by Obi the Kid
Summary: 6th in the series:  Day SixtyThree: Calling in Sick


TITLE: The Mission Series - Day Sixty-Three: Calling in Sick

AUTHOR: Obi the Kid

RATING: PG

SUMMARY: Pre-TPM. It was a long and boring mission…

FEEDBACK: Yes, please.

The characters and venue of Star Wars are copyrighted to Lucas Films Limited. The characters not recognizable from this venue are copyrighted to Tracy C. Knight. The story is the intellectual property of Tracy C. Knight and is copyrighted to her. She makes no profit from the writing or distribution of this story.

Day Sixty-Three: Calling in Sick

On the balcony of his suite, Qui-Gon Jinn sat alone and quiet in a lounge overlooking the majestic snow-capped mountains in the distance. The sun was just beginning to dip behind their large forms as another long day came to an end on the planet of Galos.

Another long day. Another very long day.

Sixty three of them in a row to be precise. But who was counting? He was. And he had no doubt that Obi-Wan was doing the same.

The Jedi Master had shed his robe and outer tunic, letting his lose-fitting shirt that was usually hidden, hang over his belt. His boots had been kicked off moments after he'd returned from another pointless day of watching bickering politicians argue about anything and nothing.

A cool breeze blew past, catching Qui-Gon's long, tassel-free hair and tossing it gently around his face. He sighed heavily. Something he found himself doing a lot of recently. Even after spending many hours in deep mediation. This mission could not end soon enough. Unfortunately, it didn't look to be ending any time soon.

"Damn fools. They call themselves brilliant politicians. If they would only listen to themselves…"

He realized he'd begun talking to himself when a voice from behind surprised him.

"Master, I don't mean to interrupt while you carry on a conversation with yourself, but may I join you?"

Obi-Wan Kenobi, dressed in much the same way as Qui-Gon approached his master. Qui-Gon gave a short laugh under his breath.

"I didn't realize I was vocalizing my thoughts. Have a seat, Padawan. You look tired."

The boy, recently having turned eighteen, not five days ago, took a seat in the chair next to Qui-Gon.

"Heck of a way to spend your birthday, isn't it?"

"Master, why are we here? How can these people settle anything if they don't shut up long enough to listen to the others speak? And how many politicians can one city actually have? Today they seemed to be dropping in from the clouds. I'm beginning to wonder if there are actually any private citizens left in the city. Or if they're not all politicians. I'm beginning to lose my grip with reality, Master. I can't take these people for much longer." He sat back and sighed.

"We've been sighing a lot recently. Have you noticed that?"

"I spend all day doing it. That and rolling my eyes. I've seen more cooperation between eeopies and banthas than I have between these five political parties."

"Five? I thought there were two?" Qui-Gon gave the younger Jedi a puzzled look.

"There were, but the politicians that had been agreeing with each other, decided that there was too much agreement. So one group split into three and the other group split into two. I think you were in the bathroom when that happened."

"It happened that quickly?"

"It's the only thing that's happened quickly since we've been here. How can such a beautiful city, such a beautiful planet be the home of such bickering and pettiness? It makes the senate look like a peace treaty signing."

Qui-Gon couldn't help but laugh at his apprentice. The pair seemed on the same wavelength at the moment. Parallel thoughts and feelings. "I spoke with the council yesterday. Well, I spoke with Yoda. He's insistent that we remain here until the political landscape is at least somewhat stable. Honestly, I don't know why I bothered talking to him. That damn little troll hasn't been in the field ages."

"This was probably his doing." Obi-Wan said. "He's getting you back for when you called him that behind his back a few months ago. Remember when he walked in on your and Master Yao's conversation? Send you on a pointless mission I will. Long boring days you will have. Lose your sanity…you will." Obi-Wan found himself giggling at his own impersonation of Master Yoda.

"That was very good, Obi-Wan. Perhaps you can demonstrate that for the council when we get home." The master winked at the younger Jedi as Obi-Wan took a deep breath, leaned back and closed his eyes, and continued to giggle under his breath.

Qui-Gon watched in awe, at the darkening beauty of the skyline on the horizon. The suns descent was almost complete. "At least the view is nice. As it the suite they put us in. Perhaps we should call in sick tomorrow, Obi-Wan."

Blue eyes opened and rolled to the left. "Master, you wouldn't."

"Would they really notice if we weren't there?"

"Only if they tried to get us to use the Force to lift something again."

"You shouldn't have done that. You know the Force was not meant to be used as a toy."

"True, but it did shut them up for about five minutes. I was tempted to lift both Governor Palto and Mayor Surratto out of their chair and dump them into the fountain pool."

"You and me both. This is quite possibly the most exhausting mission I've ever been a part of. And that includes that four month excursion through the forests and swamps of Bellessar while being hunted by natives and almost hanged for trespassing."

"We should go back there after this mission. A vacation." Obi-Wan chuckled again. He was quite content with amusing himself this evening.

"I'm tempted to send these politicians there. Probably wouldn't phase them though. They'd have all of the headhunting natives in need of soul healers after a few days of their babbling."

Qui-Gon sat up as the last light of the sun vanished into the purple and black star filled sky of Galos. "We should probably get some sleep, Obi-Wan. We might actually have to talk or do something constructive tomorrow."

"Calling in sick is sounding like a better idea all the time, Master. Call it a mental health day. It wouldn't be too far from the truth."

"You tempt me, my Padawan. I am seriously beginning to consider it. For our own sanity of course."

"Maybe they'll stop trying to show off for us and actually talk to each other if we aren't there. This could be another skillful negotiating tool for us. You wouldn't even have to tie your hair back tomorrow or put on your boots. We could lounge here all day, take in the brilliant sun and enjoy our sanity…"

"And then dread the coming of the next day," the older Jedi finished. "We would have to stay in. No wandering the city just on the outside chance that they stop arguing long enough to actually pay attention to what's going on in their city."

"Works for me, Master."

"You do look slightly ill, Obi-Wan. Let me see…" Qui-Gon reached over and put a hand on the boy's forehead. "Yes. I feel the beginning of a fever. And you have that awful cough as well."

Obi-Wan then put forth a very sorry excuse for a fake cough. "I feel horrible, Master."

"Yes you do. Although you need to work on your coughing skills. But look at you. Face is flushed. Eyes are red. Hands are trembling. I think I should make that call right now to Governor Palto's aide. Let him know we will not be attending the bickering sessions…I mean the negotiation meetings tomorrow." Stretching his long frame, Qui-Gon slowly lifted himself out of the chair. "Come along, my ill apprentice. We have a call to make. And no laughing over the comm while I'm talking."

"I'm too sick to laugh, Master. I think I'll take a warm bath to try and make myself feel better."

"Not too soon, Obi-Wan. You can't feel better until tomorrow evening."

"Oh, right. I'll just take the warm bath then, forget about making myself feel better."

The pair moved inside the suite and to the wall comm unit. Qui-Gon looked at his learner, catching the mischievous eyes…and smiled. "You're beginning to be a bad influence on me, Obi-Wan."

"Sixty-three days, Master. Maybe sixty-three more." A smirk crossed the young face. That certain grin that the boy was becoming famous for.

Qui-Gon shook his head and sighed…again. Then repeated the number of days as if it was a mantra. "Sixty-three days…sixty-three days…" His fingers moved over the comm unit, the aide to the Governor picked up.

"Governor Palto's Office."

"Good evening, Maltos. This is Master Jinn. Please inform the leaders for the meetings tomorrow that my apprentice and I will not be attending. Padawan Kenobi is not feeling well. We'll be staying in tomorrow to rest up for the remainder of the week."

"Thank you, Master Jinn. I will relay the message. Please pass my best wishes onto your apprentice."

"I will do that. Thank you. Good night." A click ended the transmission.

"You lie well, Master. And politely too."

"Was it really a lie, Obi-Wan? This mission has made us ill in some way or another."

"So, we get to sleep in tomorrow." The boy was hopeful that his master didn't plan meditation in place of extra sleep.

"Yes, we do. Doesn't happen often, but when it does, we need to take advantage of it. Especially since we have no idea how much longer we'll be here."

"On that happy note, my warm bath calls. And then my bed calls. Goodnight, Master."

"Goodnight, Padawan. Rest well. Try not to think about what day sixty-five on this planet will mean. Think positive about day sixty-four instead."

Obi-Wan grinned and disappeared into the bathroom. Qui-Gon made a cup of hot tea and retreated to his bedroom. Retrieving one of his old beloved paper books from his travel bag, he flipped to the page where he'd left off.

Page sixty-three.

A roll of his eyes. A deep sigh. The he quickly lost himself in the story playing out on the crisp pages in his hand.

END


End file.
